The Binding Stone

CHAPTER 4

Dandra felt Singe slam into her as he dove for cover behind the same fallen stone as her. She heard the rattle of crossbow bolts as they bounced off the stones. Adolan and Geth were somewhere close by, also under cover. She was aware of everything, but only peripherally, like a sound half-heard or a shadow half-glimpsed.

Tetkashtai’s wailing filled her head. They’ve caught us! Light of il-Yannah, we’re captured. I won’t go back there. I won’t!

The strength of her presence raged inside Dandra, clenching at her guts like the hands of a drowning swimmer. Tetkashtai’s terror was contagious and so powerful that it was almost physical. She gasped for breath.

Tetkashtai! she shouted back in her mind. Tetkashtai! Calm down! We have to-

The presence lashed out at her, a vicious swipe of light that burned through Dandra’s mind. This is your fault! If you’d been faster, if you’d fled this place when I told you to, we’d be safe. This is your fault, you dahr!

An image formed in Tetkashtai’s light. Eyes. Wise, piercing eyes, full of secrets. Terrible, devouring secrets. In the presence’s yellow-green light, the color of those eyes was distorted, but Dandra could picture them as well as Tetkashtai. They were bright, acid green. Like those of the black heron that Breek had brought down. When Adolan’s eagle had first brought down the strange bird, the sight of those unnaturally bright eyes had stirred emotions in her. Fascination. Fear. Horror.

Tetkashtai’s wails struck a fever pitch. She clawed at Dandra’s mind as if she could rake the image and the memories away. No! No! No!

Dandra’s head slammed back against the rock as her body stiffened. Bright sparks of pain popped in her vision. Tetkashtai, be quiet! she shouted, thrusting back against the terrified presence. Keening incoherently, Tetkashtai withdrew into the crystal, leaving Dandra gasping and clutching her temples.

“Twelve moons!” cursed Singe. He hauled himself up beside her, leaning his back against the stone and gulping air. He glanced at her, his face blotched red and white from their flight. “Dandra, are you all right?”

She nodded weakly. His hand scrambled for his rapier. The light that the blade shed seemed cold and feeble, as if the shadows of the stones were sucking it up.

“Rest,” said Adolan. The druid was crouched behind a leaning stone to their left.

“Are you insane?” Singe’s voice broke. “As soon as they’re finished-”

The rain of crossbow bolts stopped. Singe tensed. “Here they come!”

“No,” said Adolan.

Singe stared at the druid with astonished disbelief, but a moment later-when no attack had come-he stood up and peered over the top of the stone. Dandra heard breath hiss between his teeth. On their right, Geth moved as well. The metal of the strange armored sleeve that he wore scraped against rock as he moved, bending his neck to look out into the clearing. “They’ve stopped, Adolan,” he reported.

“Twelve moons,” Singe whispered. “What are those things?”

“Dolgrims,” Adolan answered. There was a raw tension in the druid’s voice. He was crouched behind a leaning stone to their left. “Aberrations, a blight on Eberron.”

Dandra saw Singe’s throat work as he swallowed hard. “Those are dolgrims?” he asked. “I’ve read about them. They’re … not what I expected.”

Dandra forced her limbs to move. Slowly and carefully, she leaned over and peered past the side of the stone. Perhaps halfway between the stones and the edge of the clearing, the dolgrims milled about in confusion. Moans and growls of frustration sputtered out of their double mouths. A few tried to move closer to the stones. They looked almost like they were attempting to walk into a strong wind. Behind them, the Bonetree hunters squatted down on the ground with an unsettling patience.

One of the dolgrims squealed and seemed to point directly at her. Half a dozen of the creatures swung around sharply, raising one or a pair of arms to fire off a new volley of crossbow bolts. Dandra, Singe, and Geth ducked back under cover. Even Tetkashtai seemed to take notice, gibbering out another wail of terror.

“What’s holding them back?” asked Singe. “What is this place-?”

His question was drowned out by another of the rolling bellows, this one so loud that Dandra pressed her hands to her ears. She glimpsed movement as Adolan reached up and pressed his palm against the stone above him. His mouth moved in an invocation and the deafening roar ended. Out in the clearing, a frightened babble broke out among the dolgrims.

“We’re safe here for the time being,” said Adolan. “You can relax. They can’t get any closer.”

“Why not?” Singe asked.

Adolan settled back. “The Bull Hole is sacred to my sect. Our lore holds that our traditions began thousands of years ago as a defense against an invasion from a realm of madness. The leaders of that invasion were powerful creatures called daelkyr. They brought lesser creatures with them from their realm-and created others from the beings they found on Eberron. All of them are anathema to nature. The war that followed took place in the Shadow Marches, spilling over into the lands surrounding the Marches.” He gestured around them. “Like the Eldeen Reaches. The Daelkyr War ended when the paths to the realm of madness were sealed. My sect, the Gatekeepers, is the oldest of the druid traditions and the one that sealed those paths and bound the greater aberrations left behind on Eberron into the depths of Khyber.” He touched the stone again. “Ancient druids created the Bull Hole and places like it to warn and guard against such creatures as the dolgrims. Its power keeps them back.”

Dandra watched as Singe stared at the druid, then squeezed his eyes shut, raked fingers through thick blond hair, and finally opened his eyes again. “That’s ludicrous!” he sputtered. “There weren’t even any humans in this part of the world that long ago. Historians have shown that the only cultures here were scattered orc barbarians and the hobgoblin empire of Dhakaan-and it fell almost six millennia ago!”

Adolan raised an eyebrow. “Historians?”

“Singe studied at Wynarn University,” growled Geth. “He knows everything.”

Dandra caught the dark glance that Singe shot toward the shifter. Adolan’s eyes, however, never wavered from the wizard.

“What do your historians say,” he asked, “caused the Dhakaani Empire to fall?”

Singe’s jaw tensed. “There’s evidence of a war.”

“With who?” Adolan spread his hands. “Scattered orc barbarians?”

Singe opened his mouth, then closed it again. Geth turned his back on him and looked out into the clearing. “The Bonetree hunters are all just sitting back but the dolgrims are still milling around. It looks like a few have tried to go around the back of the circle.”

“They won’t get in there either,” said Adolan. He glanced back at Singe. “Well?”

The wizard glowered at him. “You’re telling me this circle was built by hobgoblins?”

“Of course not.” Adolan rose to his feet, careful to stay in the shadow of his stone. “The first druids were orcs.”

“Ores?” Singe’s eyes bulged in disbelief. “Orcs couldn’t create something like this!”

“Not now, maybe,” Adolan agreed. “But you believe that the hobgoblins who spend most of their time fighting among themselves in Darguun today are the same race that once built an empire spanning half a continent, don’t you?”

Singe’s mouth closed with a snap. Adolan turned to look at Dandra. “At the cabin,” he said, “you were desperate to escape.”

Dandra bit her lip. “I’m sorry that I turned on you, but I had to-”

Adolan raised his hand, stopping her. “They’re after you, aren’t they? You’re the reason they’ve come to Bull Hollow.”

She felt blood rush to her face. With the eyes of all three men on her, she nodded.

“Why?” asked Adolan.

Her belly knotted at the question. Tetkashtai, she thought, what should I tell them? The cowering presence’s only response, however, was a thin, mad gibbering. Dandra took a deep breath and looked back at Adolan.

“They were holding me captive,” she said, trying to keep her story as simple as possible. “They kidnapped me from Zarash’ak and took me to their camp in the marshes. I managed to escape, but they’ve been pursuing me ever since.” She paused, then added. “I’ve been running for almost a month, just trying to stay ahead of them. Until you found me, I didn’t even really know where I was.”

A harshness that crept into her voice surprised even her. Adolan’s eyebrows twitched in surprise, but Geth actually cursed out loud. “Rat! Do you expect us to believe that?”

Dandra gave him an angry look. “Would you want to get caught by them?” She pointed over her shoulder, beyond the stones. “I can move fast and it’s hard to track someone who doesn’t leave footprints if she doesn’t want to. They needed their herons to follow me.”

“You were walking when we found you.”

“I was exhausted!”

“Easy,” said Adolan, raising a hand to both her and Geth. “Arguing isn’t going to help us.” The druid glanced at Dandra again. “Why did they take you?”

“Why me? I don’t know,” she answered. That much at least was the truth. She directed another mental prod toward Tetkashtai, but the presence whined like a child and batted her away. “I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, maybe.”

“Maybe they wanted you for a sacrifice to Khyber,” suggested Singe.

Dandra nodded. “Maybe,” she lied. Her hand shifted to wrap tight around the yellow-green crystal that hung from her neck. She could almost feel Tetkashtai stirring under her fingers.

The sudden patter of another shower of crossbow bolts shattered the tension of the moment and sent all of four of them cringing back under cover. “Ado, we have to do something!” Geth snarled. “They’ll soon get lucky and hit something other than rocks. We can’t stay here.”

Adolan nodded and said, “You’re right. You and Singe keep watch. Dandra, come with me.” He beckoned her to follow as he moved deeper into the circle.

Dandra drew a sharp breath and scuttled after him. Her movement roused Tetkashtai as nothing else had. Yes! she shrieked. Yes, run! Il-Yannah’s light, please run!

The presence’s fear rattled through her, so strong that Dandra almost stumbled as her legs started to respond to Tetkashtai’s demands. She pushed back against her terror. We can’t run, Tetkashtai. We’d be abandoning Geth, Singe, and Adolan!

So? Tetkashtai wailed. Better them than us! They can distract the hunters while we escape.

Dandra recoiled from the suggestion. Tetkashtai! I can’t do that!

The presence wrenched at her, yellow-green light harsh and bright. When did your opinion start to matter? Run!

No! Dandra thrust the presence away, then sent an image to her, a vision of what had happened while she huddled in fear. The hunters are waiting for us, she said. The dolgrims have crossbows ready-

Tetkashtai stared at the vision-then whirled like an angry cat. You told them! she howled. You told them what happened!

Dandra stumbled again, her shoulder scraping against cold rock. You wouldn’t answer me! she protested. I only told them what I had to.

It was too much! Tetkashtai raged. Dandra forced herself back to her feet, staggering through the presence’s anger-and flinching as a hand gripped her arm. She looked up sharply.

Adolan held her upright, offering her support. His eyes met hers. They were blue, she noticed. Soft blue, clear and direct, a stark contrast to the green eyes that haunted her thoughts …

“You fight a silent battle, Dandra,” he said.

Tetkashtai froze in the midst of her rant, her fury shrinking to a deadly, hate-filled point. He knows! she hissed. A sudden vision of flames washed through Dandra’s mind. Kill him. Kill him!

The kalashtar’s throat constricted and she shuddered, squeezing her eyes shut. No, she gasped. No! I won’t! She gathered the flames and flung them back against Tetkashtai’s venomous light. Startled by the force of her rejection, the presence backed down. Dandra groaned aloud in release and her body sagged. Adolan held her up.

When she opened her eyes, he was staring at the crystal around her neck. Dandra stiffened and pulled away reflexively. Adolan let her go. “How?” Dandra breathed. “How do you know?”

The druid shook his head. “Gatekeepers are attuned to the unnatural.” He pointed at the psicrystal. “I don’t understand your powers, Dandra, but I can tell that something is wrong. Is this why the Bonetree-”

Dandra clenched her teeth. “Don’t say anything else,” she told him harshly. “Just tell me why you needed me here.”

Adolan’s eyes widened, but he said nothing and motioned for her to turn around. Her body stiff, Dandra turned.

The stones of the Bull Hole clustered close together around the circle’s center like old warriors closing rank. Symbols and drawings were etched into their cold surfaces, some trick of the pale moonlight making them seem fresh and new though they should have been weathered into illegibility by untold ages. The stones surrounded an open space less than ten paces across and carpeted in coarse grass. Lying on the ground at the very center of the circle was a thick, irregular slab as broad as Dandra’s outstretched arms.

Breek perched on the slab. The bird’s eyes were focused on the sky overhead. Dandra followed its gaze and saw the long, gangly shapes of two herons in the moonlit sky. Her breath caught.

“They’re still watching us,” said Adolan. The druid stepped around her and over to one side of the slab. “Breek would attack them, but he knows that he would be a target as soon as he rose above the Bull Hole. We need to know what we’re facing. Lend me a hand.” He gestured and Breek hopped off the slab onto the ground. Adolan bent down, working his fingers between the soil and the stone.

Dandra looked at the slab and allowed herself a thin smile. “I think I can do better,” she said. She focused her concentration on the stone and imagined the feel of its cold, dense surface under her hands, then drew that sensation into herself, wrapping her mind around it. Tetkashtai, help me, she said as she reached out to pull the presence closer to her.

Except that Tetkashtai wrenched herself away with a chilly disdain. Dandra’s concentration wavered in surprise, her mental connection to the stone fading sharply. She sent a swift, angry thought toward the presence’s yellow-green light. Tetkashtai, what are you doing? I need your help. We have to move this rock.

Why? Tetkashtai drew herself up, her light gleaming harshly. You know what I think needs to be done.

More images of Adolan wreathed in flames, of herself fleeing the circle and leaving Singe and Geth to face the Bonetree hunters, flashed through Dandra’s head. She clenched her teeth. I’m not going to do that.

Then you can move that stone with your hands like a dumb human. Tetkashtai pulled back. Dandra’s jaw dropped open in shock.

“Dandra?” asked Adolan. He was staring at her in concern. “Are you all right?”

The kalashtar closed her mouth. “I’m fine,” she said. In her mind, she snarled at Tetkashtai. Help me!

No. Move it yourself.

Dandra’s hands curled into fists. All right, she spat. She stared at the slab, then stretched out her mind and wrapped her thoughts around it once more. “Step back,” she told Adolan. A startled look crossed the druid’s face. He snatched his fingers out from under the stone and scuttled backward away from it. Dandra turned her will against the slab, pushing against it in the same way that she pushed against the ground when she chose to glide above it.

There was a word for the invisible force involved in attempting to move something with willpower alone: vayhatana. It literally meant “ghost breath,” a good word for something that was at the same time subtle, powerful-and often elusive.

The slab didn’t move, but Dandra’s feet slid back and she almost fell to her knees. In the darkness of her mind, Tetkashtai sneered. Pathetic.

Dandra didn’t answer her. Climbing to her feet, she focused on the slab again. When she rose above the ground, the vayhatana that she used was soft and gentle, taking no real energy at all. This time, though, she hardened the vayhatana, throwing it against the slab while willing herself to remain where she was. Without Tetkashtai’s aid, directing her powers was difficult, but the raw strength behind them-that was her own. Dandra wrenched at the core of her being, dredging up all of her reserves, and heaved at the stone.

Nothing happened. She strained harder, like any human hauling at a great weight. A shudder shook her body, flesh faltering beneath the strength of her will. Tetkashtai flinched, though she still managed to mock her. Stop this! she said imperiously. You can’t move that. Who do you think you are?

Anger flickered in Dandra’s heart. Her teeth grinding together with aching pressure, she seized it, weaving it into her effort, focusing the vayhatana until it was like a cocoon spun around the slab. She lifted her hand slowly and held her palm out toward the slab. She could feel the stone, feel the way it rested against the ground. It only needed something to slide on to make it move, the way that just a thin layer of water could make tiles slippery. Or the way that a gentle force could send her gliding over the ground …

It took less than a thought to draw the cocoon of vayhatana under the slab, slipping invisible energy between stone and soil. The fingers of her hand pressed forward slightly.

A faint ripple of force shimmered through the air. Dandra didn’t even dare to breathe as, with the slightest of tremors, the slab slid smoothly away from her. A few inches … a foot … another foot.

Tetkashtai was silent in her head. On the other side of the slab, Adolan stared and moved his mouth in choked words of wonder. The moving stone revealed the edge of a hole in the ground. Adolan managed to find his voice again. “Open it all the way if you can.”

Dandra gave a slight nod and pushed a little harder. Like a child’s toy boat set down on smooth water, the slab floated aside. When the hole-no larger around than the ring of her own arms-was fully exposed, she took a breath and pulled her mind away from it. The slab settled back to the ground with a soft thud that brought a squawk from Breek. As Adolan hastened to kneel at the edge of the hole, Dandra lowered her hand. A hot pride spread through her-a pride that turned swiftly to shame. Tetkashtai’s entire attention was turned toward her, the presence’s light as cold as a winter dawn. Without a word, Tetkashtai retreated, shrinking into a yellow-green spark, no brighter than a star.

Dandra felt more empty and alone than she ever had before. She swallowed and stepped quickly to Adolan’s side.

The druid was peering intently into the hole, his lips moving in quiet murmurs. Sounds were returning from the hole as well, though, soft, almost animal sounds like the lowing of a cow. Or a bull. Cautiously, Dandra peered over Adolan’s shoulder, down into the hole. It might not have been very big around, but it was clearly deep. Far, far deeper than she would have expected. Frighteningly deep. She could feel a power in the hole, too, something very old and very primitive. Something that hated the abominations that had intruded upon the valley, something that remembered the ancient war that Adolan had described. The strength of that hatred seized her, pulled at her, tried to drag her down into the primal deeps. Dandra gasped and reeled back desperately, trying to escape it. Adolan’s hand reached up to steady her.

“Easy,” he said.

She swallowed, trying to recover her breath. “What is that?” she gasped. “If that’s what the Bonetree worship …”

Adolan shook his head sharply. “The cults of the Dragon Below worship the powers of Khyber. The spirit of the Bull Hole was placed in the depths by the Gatekeepers to help make sure that they stay there.” He rose to his feet, his face grim

“You were talking with it,” Dandra said.

“The Bull Hole knows things,” the druid replied. “It told me what we face.”

“The dolgrims? The Bonetree clan?” Dandra asked.

Adolan shook his head. “The dolgrims, yes, but not the Bonetree-the Bull Hole only sees unnatural creatures. No, there’s something else in the valley. Something worse than the dolgrims.”

Acid-green eyes flashed in Dandra’s memory and fear rose in her throat. “What?” she asked with dread.

“Ado!” Geth’s voice rose from the outer ring of the circle before the druid could answer. “You’d better see this! Something is happening out there!”

“You and Singe keep watch. Dandra, come with me.”

Geth’s eyes narrowed as Adolan beckoned Dandra to follow him, then moved off among the stones toward the center of the Bull Hole. A growl rumbled into his throat. He twisted away from both druid and kalashtar before it could fight its way free.

He found himself face to face with Singe. The Aundairian had been watching Adolan and Dandra as well, but with Geth’s sudden movement, his eyes flickered to him. Geth stiffened. Singe did the same. For a moment, both men were silent, then Singe turned back to scan the clearing beyond the circle. “Here’s a funny thing,” the wizard said. He nodded toward the dolgrims and the Bonetree hunters. “If it wasn’t for them, I’d be trying my best to burn you alive. But here we are. Like old times.”

The growl Geth had trapped before slipped loose.

Singe paid him no attention. “What Adolan said about druid history-is it all true?”

“His tradition says it is.”

“Huh.” Singe stretched his arms. “I didn’t think there was anyone left who still cared that much for tradition. I thought the Last War killed all of them-one way or another.”

“Adolan never left the Eldeen,” said Geth. “He was lucky.”

He turned to face out of the circle as well, leaning against the stone that had given them shelter. The great-gauntlet on his arm, a sword on his belt, one of the Frostbrand at his side …

Memories of a dozen battles, of hundreds of nights of guard duty, of cities and towns and fortresses, swarmed over him. The fingers of his right hand, encased in the black metal of his gauntlet, began tapping out a ringing rhythm on the stone.

Singe glanced down at the sound. Aware of what he had been doing, Geth forced his hand to be still. Old habits, he thought, came back too easily. Singe looked away again.

“That gauntlet doesn’t look like it’s had nine years of use,” he said.

“It hasn’t,” Geth answered.

“I remember when you got it. A full year’s Blademarks wages-with bonuses-to that artificer in Metrol. You didn’t take it off for half a month. The smell was so bad Robrand was worried your arm was rotting inside.”

The wizard’s voice was brittle. Geth could guess what was going through his head: nine years of bitter anger channeled into resentment at being made to stand as allies.

He knew exactly how Singe felt. He closed his hand into a fist and looked out over the clearing. “The hunters have spread themselves out,” he said. The words came out as tightly clenched as his fist. “They’re not making themselves a target. They know we have a spellcaster.”

“More likely they know we have Dandra and they want to avoid her psionics.” He darted a glance down at Geth. “That’s kalashtar mind-magic to you.”

“Is it really? Maybe they did teach you everything at Wynarn,” the shifter grunted back. He looked up at Singe. The wizard had stiffened. Nine years had changed the man-Geth could see it in Singe’s eyes-but he still had the same sensitive points. Geth dug a little harder. “That big crystal she wears around her neck? It’s called a psicrystal-it’s like a familiar for psions.”

“I know what a psicrystal is,” snapped Singe. He stared out into what Geth knew could only be shadows to his human eyes. “How may of them are there?”

“Dolgrims?” Geth made a rough estimate of their opponents’ numbers-with so many arms waving and mouths champing in the moonlight, it was difficult. Every so often, a little pack would split off to circle the clearing while others would tumble out of the woods, making an accurate count even more difficult. Still, he grimaced at the odds. “Thirty, maybe forty. Less than half that of Bonetree hunters, assuming all of them are out there and not in the trees-”

Even as he spoke, though, an eerie, fluting call floated through the night air and a ripple seemed to spread through humans and dolgrims alike. The humans rose silently, remaining where they stood, while the dolgrims shrieked and jostled themselves into a rough semblance of order. All of them turned to face the dark line of the trees. Both Geth and Singe stiffened.

“What’s going on?” muttered Singe.

“I don’t know.” Geth raised his voice and called over his shoulder, “Ado! You’d better see this! Something is happening out there!”

Adolan and Dandra were beside them in only moments, striding swiftly from the inner circle. Dandra looked strangely fear-haunted and Adolan oddly calm. Geth wondered what had happened at the Bull Hole’s heart-but only briefly.

Out in the clearing, three figures emerged from the trees. One was a lean man with tattoos that swarmed up his arms. Another was a tall woman, as big as any man in Bull Hollow, with beads the size of finger bones strung through dark blonde hair and two pale rings piercing her lower lip over her canines. Both were dressed like the other hunters and carried swords. Of the third figure, though, Geth could make out almost nothing: it was shrouded in a cloak and cowl. One of the hunters approached the trio, speaking with them. His words were soft, but Geth saw him point at the stones and glimpsed his face as it twisted into an ugly grimace. The tall woman glanced back toward the forest and nodded. The lean man’s expression grew long and he bowed his head. They had found the bodies of the hunters he, Singe, and Dandra had killed, Geth guessed.

Only the cloaked figure made no expression of sorrow. Its cowl turned not toward the trees, but toward the circle of stones. Adolan’s breath hissed between his teeth.

“What is it?” asked Geth.

Adolan shook his head. His eyes were fixed on the cloaked figure.

It must have said something because the humans turned toward it. The hunter who had spoken first swept his hand through the air, palm up. The cloaked figure turned sharply and strode forward, the lean man and the tall woman in its wake. Hunters and dolgrims alike leaped aside to make way for them.

At the same point where the magic of the Bull Hole had blocked the dolgrims, the cloaked figure was stopped as well. It cursed, a horrible word that carried all the way to the stones and that Geth didn’t recognize, though he understood the emotion behind it all too well. The figure turned away and spoke again in what sounded like the same language, this time addressing the dolgrims. The horrid creatures squealed with excitement and charged back toward the trees. Only the Bonetree hunters and the cloaked figure remained in the moonlight. The figure turned back to face the Bull Hole again.

“Gatekeeper!” it shouted. “Gatekeeper!” Its voice was harsh and oddly broken, as if it did not often speak. It reached up to draw back its cowl. Geth’s guts tightened. Dandra gasped and Singe hissed. Adolan’s hands, Geth saw, curled where they rested on the stone of the Bull Hole.

There were no eyes behind the cowl. Black pits stared out of an emaciated face. The creature’s flesh was pale and hard, drawn close to its bones and muscles. Its ears flared broad from the sides of its head before narrowing to fine points. Strange, thick clumps of hair fell from its head to its shoulders and a light, shimmering fur seemed to cover its arms and a chest that was bare beneath the cloak. Long, thin tentacles that resembled nothing so much as unnatural tongues sprang from the flesh of its shoulders.

“Gatekeeper!” the creature roared again. “I know you hear me. There is only one thing we want here. Give us the kalashtar and we will leave your valley!”

Dandra shrank back in fear, but there was also relief on her face, as if she had almost been expecting something even worse to lie behind the cowl. Geth’s eyes darted from her to Adolan. “What is that thing?” he asked in disgust.

“A dolgaunt,” Adolan answered. “The Bull Hole felt its presence in the valley. It’s leader of the dolgrims. As foul as they are, it’s even worse.”

“Hruucan,” said Dandra softly. Adolan glanced at her. So did Geth and Singe. Dandra looked at them without meeting their gazes. “The dolgaunt-his name is Hruucan.”

Adolan’s expression was guarded. “This isn’t the first time you’ve encountered him?”

Dandra shook her head. The look in her eyes was so haunted that even Geth flinched back. Adolan blew out his breath. “Ring of Siberys.”

For a moment, conflict washed across Dandra’s face, then she blurted out. “If you want to avoid a fight, let me go. They’ve just spent a month following me. If I get out of the valley, maybe they’ll keep following me-”

Adolan turned a sharp glare on her. “No,” he said. The druid clenched his spear and stepped out from behind the stone.

“If she’s the one thing you want, dolgaunt,” he shouted back, “then I swear by the Three Dragons and the Twelve Moons that she’s the one thing you’ll never have!”

The druid’s defiance echoed across the valley. Behind Hruucan, the Bonetree hunters stirred angrily. The tall woman said something to the dolgaunt and raised the sword that she carried. Geth bared his teeth. Even with the protection of the Bull Hole, he flexed his hand instinctively inside the great-gauntlet. “Boar’s tusk!” he muttered at Adolan as he ducked back in among the stones. “Couldn’t think of a better way to get them angry, could you?”

But out in the clearing, Hruucan simply turned his back on the stone circle and lifted his hand, silencing the hunters. He leaned toward the tall woman and the lean man who had accompanied him out of the forest. Both nodded. Geth stared as the dolgaunt strode out of the clearing and vanished into the trees after the dolgrims.

The tall woman and the lean man began drifting among the hunters, whispering to them. Where they passed, the savage warriors stretched and readied their weapons, looking toward the Bull Hole with a violent glee in their eyes.

“Twelve bloody moons, what are they up to?” said Singe. He glanced at Dandra. She shook her head. The wizard looked to Geth and Adolan. “I thought you said the dolgaunt was the leader of the dolgrims, not the hunters!”

Adolan shook his head. “Dolgaunts are servants of the powers of Khyber. The cults of the Dragon Below revere all such aberrations as holy creatures.”

“Can we make a break for it while their numbers are low?”

“No,” Geth said. “We don’t know where the dolgrims have gone.” He studied the hunters, especially the man and woman. They seemed to be in charge now that Hruucan was gone. The woman kept glancing toward the Bull Hole, then back toward the hunters, as she paced back and forth across the clan’s line. “They’re waiting for something,” he guessed. “Maybe they’re expecting us to make a break.”

“Maybe,” agreed Dandra. The kalashtar was watching the hunters as well, her brow furrowed. Geth glanced at her.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Maybe nothing.” She turned to Adolan. “You said the Bull Hole only saw unnatural things like the dolgrims. It couldn’t see the Bonetree hunters. It was created to protect against aberrations.”

The druid nodded.

Dandra gestured toward the tall woman. “The Bull Hole protected us from the dolgrims and Hruucan, but the hunters haven’t even tried to approach yet, have they?”

Adolan’s eyes narrowed, then went wide. “Ring of Siberys!”

Geth stared at him. “What?” he demanded. “What is it?”

“Humans and aberrations have never attacked the Bull Hole in concert before.” Adolan leaned against the stone, peering into the night. “I don’t know if the Bull Hole will protect us against humans or not!”

“This isn’t a good time to find out!” growled Geth. He reached across his body and pulled his sword from his sheath.

“It’s going to get worse!” Singe thrust an arm up toward the sky. “Look!” Geth, along with Adolan and Dandra, followed his gesture.

Up above the treetops in the direction of Bull Hollow, ruddy light lit the underside of a growing column of smoke.

“Grandfather Rat,” Geth breathed. Bull Hollow was burning. He knew where the dolgaunt and the dolgrims had gone.

The hunters saw the fire, too. As if it was the signal she had been waiting for, the tall woman thrust her sword high into the air and shouted, “Su Drumas!”

Savage, screaming battle cries made the night tremble. The hunters sprang to the attack. The Bull Hole’s defenses didn’t even slow them down.

Geth’s heart thundered in his chest. If they stood their ground, they would be trapped. “The Hollow, Ado!” he roared. “We have to get to the Hollow!”

“Just keep the hunters busy!” Adolan spun abruptly and raced back toward the center of the Bull Hole.

Geth bared his teeth and prayed the druid knew what he was doing. “Hold them back!” he shouted at Singe and Dandra. “Singe to the left, Dandra to the right!”

Roaring like Tiger, he hurled himself out from the circle of stones and directly at the massed heart of the Bonetree charge. A lithe little hunter with two long knives leaped out in front of the pack, faster than the other warriors. Geth’s sword darted forward, then swept to the side in a lethal arc.

The savage warrior ducked and rolled under it neatly, coming up inside the shifter’s guard with his knives slashing in a furious cascade of sharpened metal.